Disclaimer: The characters, settings, etc. of the Harry Potter series are not mine. I just play with them.
Hermione Granger sat at the desk of the small, dusty building and frowned. She frowned because she'd just remembered she had no milk at home and the market would be closed by the time she got home.
Crookshanks would be very irritated when she came home for the third straight day with no milk. He had been drinking water in the evening before he went to sleep instead of his usual saucer of milk, but he had been by no means happy about it. He was quite the contrary, actually, and was only drinking the water out of desperation.
Hermione guessed, from the angle of the sunlight on her desk, that it was approaching four o'clock. She usually waited around until five before closing up shop on slow days like this. Mondays were not usually extraordinarily busy. She had the most customers on the weekends or on Friday evenings.
Today was like most Mondays. A couple of young school children had wandered in about three o'clock, looking at her fiction shelves to see if anything struck them as interesting. When the young ones filed out of the store at about half past three, the teenaged students came in, looking for books for class. They cleared out quickly, and were in and out of the shop in under fifteen minutes. Thus, by four o'clock, all of Hermione's Monday business had come and gone, and she was left to twiddle her thumbs until five o'clock.
At ten 'til five, Hermione stood from her perch behind the counter and walked towards the shelves to give them a last straightening. There was nothing more she hated than returning to the store in the morning to find all of the books in disarray because she had neglected to straighten up the night before.
She was rearranging the middle shelf of the biography section when she heard the bell ring as the door to the shop opened, signifying that a customer had entered. Hermione glanced at her watch and saw that it was two minutes until closing. She sighed but reminded herself that staying open a few minutes after five would be worth it if she could make a bit of money.
"I'll be with you in just a minute!" she called to the customer.
"Take your time," came the response. She recognized the man's voice. He had to be a regular customer for her to remember the sound of his voice, and as she always paid frequent patrons particular attention, she hurriedly finished fixing up the shelves.
"Sorry," she said as she emerged from behind the shelves and walked towards the counter where he now stood.
She hoped she did not look as surprised as she felt.
The man standing next to the counter was by no means a regular customer. In fact, he had only come into the store once before a few days ago. She supposed the only reason she recognized him now was because he still had that baseball cap pulled low so that it hid his eyes. There was, of course, his stance which had struck her as oddly familiar when she saw him gazing at the rows of books his first time in the shop. And, of course, there was the fact that his voice struck something—a memory she supposed—deep in the recesses of her mind. Ignoring all of this at present, though, she attributed her quick recognition to his baseball cap.
"Well, hello." She smiled up at him. "I didn't expect you back for a few weeks."
"Er, well…" She watched as he shifted his weight with uneasiness. He cleared his throat and spoke with renewed force in a clear and rather cold tone. "I finished my book. I was wondering if you had any new ones?"
"In the field of astrology?" She asked as she walked around to the back of the counter. She had gone home the day he had come into the store and had found her book from Divination. It was quite old now, but as she had not put it through much wear, was still in perfect condition for reading.
"Yes, yes," he replied hurriedly. "Astrology."
"Tell me, sir," she said as she bent down behind the counter to retrieve the volume from one of her storage shelves. "Are you interested in astrology for horoscopes and such?"
"Um…yes," he replied hesitantly.
"Excellent," Hermione said, straightening up and offering him a bright smile as she placed the volume on top of the counter. She watched with satisfaction as he stepped forwards and looked with interest down at the book.
"Unfogging the Future?" He read aloud, looking up at her quizzically. "This is about astrology?"
"Well, no," Hermione said quickly, blushing at his skepticism. She was unsure as to why she felt so motivated to impress him, but she was. She wanted him to believe that she was intelligent and interesting. "It is a rather rare book; I found it in a shop in a small shop a long time ago. I saw it on my bookshelf at home and thought it might be what you were looking for." She was surprised at her capability to spin lies with such ease.
He nodded slowly, lifting a hand and tracing the title with his index finger. Hermione tried not to stare at his hands, but it was far too difficult no to do so. She was amazed by how beautiful they were. They were quite obviously masculine and not unaccustomed to hard labor, but at the same time they were quite elegant. She was also struck by how familiar they seemed to be; it was as if she had seen his hands thousands of times before, but just fully noticed them now.
"If it's not about astrology, then exactly what subject does it deal with?" He asked, keeping his eyes on the book.
"Well, predicting the future. The book refers to it as the study of divination."
He glanced up at her. His features were, much to her ire, still well hidden by the shadows cast on his face by the bill of the cap and the poor lighting of her store. His eyes were slightly distinguishable; she could tell that they were very dark in color. At this moment, she noticed, they seemed to shine with interest.
"I have never heard of it," he confessed, but she noted he sounded rather intrigued.
Hermione smirked. "I'm sorry to say I don't know much about it. I simply skimmed the book. It seems to have a bit to do with reading tea leaves and crystal balls and other foolishness."
He offered a half smile that she noted more closely resembled a sneer than any kind of grin. "Perhaps it's not so foolish."
Hermione chuckled softly. "Well, I have never put much faith in tea leaves, but by all means, sir, if you think it to be a particularly useful way to predict the future, please give it a go."
His smile widened. "Maybe I will. How much do I owe you for this?" He asked as he reached into his pocket, she assumed, to pull out money.
"Oh, please," she reached over the counter and put her hand on his arm. "No money." She noticed when he looked at her that his skepticism was apparent in his eyes. "I'd much rather you just take it." She paused to take a deep breath before making her next offer. "Besides, once you're done, you can bring it back and we'll discuss what you've learned."
He continued to smile at her. "That would be lovely. There is nothing I would love more than to share any garnered knowledge about tea leaves with a beautiful young woman."
Hermione promptly blushed at his words, and did not fail to notice the surprise in his eyes. She supposed his calling her beautiful had been as unexpected to him as it had been to her.
"Well," he said clearing his throat and grabbing the book off of the counter. "I suppose I will see you in a few days time."
"Yes," she nodded and watched as he walked towards the door. "Good bye," she said as he opened it.
"Good bye," he replied and walked out into the early evening air.